Many Things
by Ryah Ignis
Summary: Astoria Greengrass is born into a world of blood, money and arranged marriages. Yet, she is different than other purebloods. Astoria Greengrass is a challenge. Then it's a good thing Draco likes a challenge, then, isn't it?
1. Chapter 1

**Many Things**

**Under the Sorting Hat**

The first thing Draco Malfoy noticed about Astoria Greengrass was the way she looked at things.

"Greengrass, Astoria!"

The girl looked positively terrified as she approached the Sorting Hat. Of course, it wouldn't have helped that her first Hogwarts experience was the Dementors. That hadn't been that fun for Draco, either, but he'd never let someone _know _that by looking at him.

"Hufflepuff," said Pansy Parkinson derisively.

Daphne Greengrass, the girl's sister, looked at Pansy. Her entire family had been in Slytherin, and she obviously didn't want anything negative said about her sister.

"Shut it, Parkinson, or the next thing to have its soul sucked out will be you!" she growled.

"Scared of the Dementors like Potter?" asked Draco. "Oooh!"

He pulled the hood of his school robes over his head and continued to moan.

"So mature," sniffed Daphne, turning away from his antics.

Draco got a better look at Astoria as the Hat was lowered over her head. Her light brown hair, gentle smile and heart shaped face was about as different as one could get from her sister.

"Maybe Ravenclaw," said Blaise.

"Oh please, Blaise. I'll give you ten galleons if you're right about that one!" Pansy said, eyes gleaming at the bet.

"I say Slytherin," put in Daphne. "Twenty galleons!"

"Someone's feeling cocky. What about you, Draco?" Pansy asked, turning her adoring eyes on the boy.

Draco looked at Astoria again. It had been nearly two minutes since the hat had been put on the girl's head. Maybe she'd be a Hatstall. They were rare; it hadn't happened in about twenty years. It really would be something to see a member of a family that had been Slytherin as old as time to wind up in Gryffindor. Feeling oddly generous towards both Astoria and her older sister, he shook his head at Pansy's question.

The dementors were affecting him, he knew it.

"Oh, who cares anyway?" he said carefully, not really wanting to answer the question. "Where's Potter?" That always kept them busy.

"Word is he fainted on the train!"

Draco sniggered, though he kept his eyes trained on the youngest Greengrass sister. The Hat was still determining which House to put her in.

Oh, what was he _thinking_? He didn't care what House this girl was in. She could be a Gryffindor, and where would these thoughts get him _then_?

Stupid dementors.

The hat seemed to come to a conclusion as it opened its mouth. Blaise checked his watch.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Four minutes and thirty-two seconds. Nearly a Hatstall," he said in his typical bored drawl.

The House clapped as Astoria sat down across from Draco, next to her sister.

"Congratulations," Draco told her.

The others looked at him in surprise, but one hard look froze them all in their tracks. Pansy looked as if someone had forced her to swallow dragon dung.

Now that he thought about it, she looked like that most of the time.

"Thanks!" Astoria said, flushed with excitement, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was talking to the boy who practically ran Slytherin House. "The Hat debated about Hufflepuff for the _longest _time, but it decided on Slytherin in the end. Do you have any idea how disappointed my parents would have been if I wasn't a Slytherin?"

Oh, he had an idea all right, but didn't voice it. Theodore Nott took the opportunity to get someone in his house to like him, though. Round-faced, clumsy and rather short, Theodore was mistaken for a Hufflepuff more often than not.

"Yeah! My Da said he'd disown me, but I don't know if—"

"Theodore?"

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"Shut up."

Astoria did not look impressed by this display; if anything she looked rather miffed. What in the name of Merlin was wrong with this girl, and why did he care?

Dementors. Dementors were ruining his life.

The uncomfortable silence continued for a long moment until Daphne and Pansy started squabbling over the twenty Galleons that were owed. Things were back to normal in Slytherin house, for now. Everything but Draco Malfoy.

Curse those dementors.


	2. Chapter 2

**Many Things**

**The Strangest Slytherin**

The second thing that Draco Malfoy noticed about Astoria Greengrass was her kindness.

He was in the library, looking for a book to finish the essay he'd written for McGonagall. Though he didn't like the woman, the very last thing he needed was a Troll on the first week.

As usual, Hermione Granger was proclaiming about something a few rows of books away. Did the Mudblood _ever _leave the library, or did she sleep there, cast out by the other Gryffindor girls that found her too boring and bookish? Draco amused himself for a second at the thought of Granger piling books up to sleep on, but he got back to work.

Madam Pince, oddly enough, was nowhere to be found, and after the card catalogue tried to bite his fingers when he attempted to open it, Draco set off down the shelves, checking titles at random.

He had finally found the right book after fifteen minutes of searching, and was halfway through taking it off the shelf when there was a blast of heat, a roar, and a rise of flames that reached over the side of the bookshelf, raining ashes down on him. Coughing, Draco emerged from the cinders, ready to tell off whoever had ruined his best school robes. However, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Merlin, are you all right?"

"Yeah," came Neville Longbottom's exhausted voice. "Happens a lot."

He could say _that _again.

Draco paused and shifted a couple of books aside to peer over at the pair.

Not that he cared who Astoria spent her time with.

Astoria was prodding the paper in a rather futile attempt to get it to stop smoking. Neville's face was singed, but Seamus Finnegan was already at his side recommending various cures. Astoria pointed her wand at the paper, which looked ready to explode into flames again.

"Finite Incantartum!"

"That's like fourth year stuff," said Finnegan in amazement.

Astoria blushed at the praise.

"I had a lot of time on my hands while Daphne was at Hogwarts for two years without me. There are only so many puzzles you can do without being bored out of your mind!"

"Greengrass?"

"Yeah. She's my sister!"

The two Gryffindors looked at the girl in new light, though if either had qualms about talking to her now that they noticed the color of her tie, neither said anything.

"Well, thanks," Neville said, smiling at her.

Astoria returned the grin, looking considerably happier than she had been when Draco had silenced Theodore.

Not that he noticed. Or cared.

Astoria melted back into the bookshelves, leaving the two Gryffindors utterly bemused by her help. Draco pulled the book he needed off the shelf, but he hadn't finished his business quite yet. He still needed to find Greengrass.

Not that he would ever admit it, even to himself.

Astoria sat in the middle of the row, a book so long that only Hermione Granger would approve of perched on her lap. Even with her elbows on either side of the book, holding it down, the thing dwarfed her. Why she hadn't chosen to make use of one of the many tables in the library, Draco didn't know.

"Hello, Draco," she said without even looking up.

Draco was irked. He didn't like it when people younger than him used his first name. It didn't feel quite right, and this girl had no business…

"Don't you have better things to do with your time than watching first years study?" she challenged him.

"Shouldn't you be waiting until third year to be studying about magical creatures?" he shot back, refusing to be one-upped.

"I like them. Hippogriffs especially. They're so proud. Did you know that you have to bow to them to gain their trust?"

"Who says I want to get their trust?"

"Do you want to be in the Hospital Wing for a couple of months?"

The two glared at each other. Draco wasn't quite sure what to make of the strong-willed girl that had the nerve to defy him. He was used to people bowing down to him, rather like Pansy Parkinson. Daphne wasn't the obedient type, but at least she would shut up when he told her to. He got the feeling that Astoria wouldn't.

Not that it bothered him. She would eventually.

"So, what are you here for, then?" she asked.

"I wanted to tell off Longbottom for getting ashes all over me."  
"You know what, Malfoy? I've been at Hogwarts for all of three days, but I can already tell you're the type of person I don't even want to bother getting to know. You're stuck up, annoying and you seem to get a kick out of making other people feel bad. You of all people should know that Neville Longbottom has enough on his plate without having to deal with you! Don't even get me started on the names you call Hermione Granger! Did you know that you made Ginny Weasley cry the other day? She went through so much last year! I'll bet you don't even care what I have to say, but I want you to know that I think that you're a jerk who one day isn't going to have anybody because all of your so-called friends have left you because you're not useful anymore!"

She marked her place in the book, slammed it, got up, shot him a filthy look and stalked off down the shelves to check out her book. Draco felt as if he'd been slapped. She'd had the nerve to…oh he was going to…she was going to pay…

Then he felt like he'd been hit with a ton of bricks. Everything she'd said was true, whether he liked it or not. At least it was true from her eyes. And what did she mean, he wouldn't have any friends? Slytherins were friends as loyal as you could find them! Well, besides Hufflepuffs….but that didn't matter! Besides, he'd still have…um…money! Yes, money!

That didn't seem as important as it had only an hour before. Who cared what Astoria said anyway? She was just a little first year that, without his help, wouldn't be anything to anyone in Slytherin anyway. And she most certainly would not be getting his help. She was wrong in everything she'd said.

Not that he cared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Many Things**

**Never Anger a Hippogriff**

The third thing Draco Malfoy noticed about Astoria Greengrass was how she was completely different from all the other Slytherins.

"Ow! OW! Stop it!"

Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes at the Slytherin's complaints. She had been subjected to many a whining student in her time at Hogwarts, but none were quite as theatrical as Draco Malfoy.

"It feels like it's going to fall off!" he moaned exaggeratedly.

Pansy Parkinson leaned over him, squeezing his hand so tightly it was slowly turning white. He wasn't whimpering over his arm. Pansy's death grip was much more serious at the moment. Madame Pomfrey finished applying the essence of Dittany to the wound.

"That should do it!"  
"That should do it? _That should do it? _I nearly lost my _arm, _I could have _died _and all you can say is that should do it?"

Amongst his many admirers for remaining brave throughout the procedure Draco thought he could see Blaise Zabini rolling his eyes. He would pay for that later, but for now Draco intended to keep the spotlight on himself.

"You should all go to class now," Madame Pomfrey said sternly.

Pansy whimpered something about how she should be there for her Dracey-Poo. Thankfully, no one but Draco heard this, as it was said in almost a whisper. Draco sighed, and would have covered his head with his pillow if his hand hadn't been wrapped in a thick layer of gauze. He had insisted on it, but he was regretting it now.

"Go on…it _probably _won't kill me in the next hour."

Pansy whimpered, but complied with his orders. It was good to be king. Draco smiled and lounged back on his pillows. With any luck, this would get the oaf Hagrid sacked!

Even in his good mood, Draco was quickly bored by the ins and outs of the hospital wing. A first year whose partner in Transfiguration that had managed to give her a teapot handle for a nose. A fourth year by the name of McLaggen who had eaten one pound of doxy eggs and vowed to break his record eventually. None of them had interesting stories to tell, tales of valor and heroics, leaping in the way of an innocent girl about to be mauled by a hippogriff…so what if it hadn't happened that way? He needed _something _to tell the masses. How else was the story supposed to be dramatic? Maybe later it would be a best seller? (Merlin, was he turning into Gilderoy Lockhart?)

Draco was shaken out of his fantasies involving the rescue of, though he would never figure it out, a very pretty dark haired first year by that said very pretty dark haired first year girl.

"Daphne and Pansy were busy, so they sent me with your homework," she said in a very bored tone of voice.

"Oh, did they?"

"Do you really think I'd come on my own?"

Silence. Awkward silence that Draco would not wish on his worst enemy. Okay, maybe he'd wish it on Potter and maybe Granger…possibly Weasley and if he could do it, Longbottom to boot, but that wasn't that point.

"I can't believe that hippogriff attacked you!"

" I can't either! It nearly killed me!" he gasped.

She didn't look horrified. If anything, she looked amused.  
"No it didn't. You must have insulted it."

"What, and ignore your warning?"

"That seems exactly like something you'd do."

"Oh really?"

"Yes," she snapped.

The conversation dwindled away into nothing. Draco looked down at his bed sheets. Only one hundred thread count. Huh. You'd think they'd make it better for the injured.

"Here's your homework."

"Thank you."

"I bet that's the first time you've told anyone that."

"No, there was that—or maybe…okay, yes."

"I don't understand you, Malfoy."

"And I don't understand you, Astoria."

"Hardly anyone does."

Draco wondered why she would say something like that. Surely someone in Slytherin understood the strange first year Hatstall who had been stuck between two houses that could not be more different! Astoria closed the door behind her with a snap, and Draco regretted not saying anything else. What was wrong with this girl? She was the only person who had ever insulted him and gotten away with it. Plus, she didn't seem to have a problem with messing with him. Which she most definitely should. Everyone else did.

_Why won't I do anything? _Draco thought. _I _should _do something. She can't just disrespect me like this!_

The horrible possibility floated to mind, but Draco shoved it away. There was no way that he, Draco Malfoy, the unofficial leader of Slytherin house, son of the most influential person in the Ministry; cool, calm, collected Draco Malfoy could feasibly care even the tiniest bit for Astoria Greengrass.

~o0o~

To test his theory (as soon as he was well enough to lift his hand, that is) he went to the library, the one place you could be certain to find Astoria any time she wasn't in one of her classes. Draco found her reaching up for a book on the care of unicorns, several inches above her reach.

"Need help, Astoria?"

She turned around, a scowl already on her face. True to his notion, Draco found himself not furious at the girl.

"Are you always in the library when I am?" she asked coolly.

"Aren't you always in the library?"

"Is that an insult, Malfoy?"

"I don't know. Is it?"

She glared intensely at him, brown eyes narrowed. It was the first time Draco had ever seen a trace of her sister in Astoria's face.

"Oh come on, Astoria! Does it always have to be this way between us?"

"It wouldn't be any way if you would stop talking to me."

"Half the girls in Slytherin would give their fortunes to talk to me!"

"And I would be the one holding the fortunes and laughing."

Draco frowned too. You just couldn't win with this girl.

He would be the first. Guaranteed. After all, Draco Malfoy didn't lose.


	4. Chapter 4

**Many Things**

**Fleeing the Flames**

The fourth thing Draco Malfoy noticed about Astoria Greengrass was her age.

Draco was the first one to hear the crashes and yells outside the tent on the night of the Quidditch World Cup.

"What's going on?" he asked blearily, sitting up in his bed and rubbing his eyes.

Of course, no one answered. He was alone in his room, sleeping because _he _unlike fans of the Irish didn't have a team to celebrate for. Stupid Bulgarian team. He was never going to hear the end of this from Blaise. With a sigh he got up and opened the door quietly. His parents had not stirred yet. The fire was almost dead with only a few embers still glowing. The dim lighting was almost impossible to see in, so he used his shin (otherwise known as the human's device to find something in the dark) to lead the way. After a stream of curses, wizarding and Muggle alike, he peered out the front of the tent. Fire was everywhere, wizards were losing it and someone was screaming.

Thank Merlin for soundproof tent walls.

"Mother, Father, I think you'll want to see this!" he called. Whether this was the work of _very _organized vandals or former followers of Voldemort, it was not something he felt like facing on his own. Whether you call it cowardice or smarts, Slytherins had it.

"What is it, sweetheart?" his mother murmured.

He motioned out to the panicking group outside. Lucius's face lit up as he pulled his cloak off the hook near the door.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked. Surely his father wasn't thinking of joining them! He would have to be mad to do that. It was only quick thinking, a silver tongue and generous donations to Fudge's campaign fund that had kept them out of Azkaban the first time around.

"Stay here," Narcissa warned. Draco hoped that she would try to talk some sense into his father. This was ridiculous!

They hurried outside. Draco poked his head outside, but withdrew it quickly to avoid the fireball heading directly towards his head. The edge of the tent was catching! Draco grabbed a few possessions from the table, happy that nothing that precious was in the tent and fled. The chaos was growing larger, and he thought he could make out four forms floating above the campground. Still, he had to get out of there unless he wanted to burn with the tent.

He wasn't sure who to trust so he ran down, flinging people out of his way as he went. The he tripped. He fell on top of a girl and they went down in a tangle of arms, legs and robes. Draco found himself looking into the eyes of Astoria Greengrass.

Why her?

"Fancy meeting you here," he said casually, helping the girl to her feet.

"Yes, fancy that," she said, brushing herself off and checking herself for damage.

"Sorry about that."

Astoria shrugged, getting on her tiptoes to look for the rest of her family. They had disappeared in the crowd.

"Well, looks like I'm stuck with you," she said with a sigh. "Where are your parents?"

Draco didn't exactly want to tell her that they were in the middle of the entire fiasco, so he told her the truth.

"Gone."

Astoria didn't question him, but he could see the curiosity burning in her eyes. Draco held out his hand and she took it. They raced off, Draco suddenly aware of how much smaller the girl was than him as she doubled her pace to match his.

"Where are we running?" she shouted.

"I have no idea!"

"Oh, well isn't that just fantas—"

She was cut off by a jet of red light that came out of nowhere.

"No!" Draco cried, dropping to his knees beside her now limp form. She was unconscious. He wasn't quite sure what had hit her.

"Stand back, son," said a soft voice.

Draco looked up at the tall man, who had a gold ring through one ear.

"I'll patch her up. I'm with the Ministry, Auror department. She'll be safe with me, don't worry. Go along now, and meet your parents in the woods."

Draco was reluctant to leave her side, but after he saw a second exploding fireball like the one that had consumed the tent, he gave up and ran again. The woods were crowded with escaping witches and wizards. He didn't see a single person he recognized.

"Avez-vous vu une petite fille?" a frantic voice said.

A teenaged witch grasped both of his hands and stared pleadingly at him. Draco had never been more happy in his life for the French lessons his mother had made him take, claiming that it was the 'language of the pure.' She had asked him if he'd seen little girl.

"Err…hang on, I know French."

The girl nodded feverishly at the mention of her native language.

"Cheveux bruns?" he asked, remembering the terrified brown haired girl blubbering in French that he had seen earlier.

"Oui! Oui!"

"De cette façon,"he said, pointing off in the direction he had indicated.

The girl dashed off without so much as a thank you, not that Draco had been expecting one.

"Well done, monsieur," said a voice form behind the tree.

Astoria popped out, looking healthy and not in the least pale once more. Her hair was disheveled and her clothes were rumpled.

"Merlin, are you all right?"

"Never better. You know French?"

"Some."

Astoria didn't even mention the fact that he had left her with a stranger in the middle of a possibly Death Eater infested rampage. Pansy definitely would have. In fact, she would have rambled on for hours about it. Draco found himself disliking the rather pug-faced girl the more time he spent with Astoria. There was no time to chat, however, as Mr. Greengrass showed up, telling his daughter off for vanishing and duly acknowledging Draco's part in keeping her out of harm's way.

Draco smirked at her, and she glowered back. It looked as if things between them were as they were before, non-existent heroics aside. Draco remembered seeing Potter and his fan club earlier. Perhaps there was still time to annoy them….


End file.
